AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I stop abruptly when I see the fence. This isn’t one of those ancient, crumbling split-rail fences I’ve passed for thousands of miles in my travels, nor is it a garden-variety four-foot-high barbed wire fence.
Here, in the middle of absolutely nowhere, is a new fence that’s fifteen feet tall if it’s an inch. At the top is razor wire. Is that for keeping things in or keeping people out? It screams only one thing: prison.
My stomach tightens in warning as my minor irritation at Tater and that jerk in the café is replaced with concern. No. That’s too tame a word. I’m more than concerned. I’m worried. This fence gives me the heebie-jeebies because it doesn’t belong here.
“Tator?” No longer is my voice laced with annoyance at my dog. Now I’m worried about him.
I’m relieved when he starts barking again. It allows me to follow the sound. Although I don’t see him, my anxiety calms a little when I see the hole under the fence that he crawled through to get into the restricted area.
If I had any doubts that this is where Tater went, a tatter of the sky-blue bandana I keep tied around his neck is clinging to a small spike at the exposed bottom of the fence, right above the hole.
“I’m going to punish you.” My voice is low. There’s no way he can hear my threat, which is good, because if he heard me, he’s almost smart enough to contact the ASPCA to report me. “Half rations for a week to reimburse me for the effort and sheer humiliation of making me crawl under the fence like I’m starring in a jailbreak movie.”
A small scrap of my Hu T-shirt joins the torn piece of Tater’s blue bandana. Crap. I love that T-shirt. Maybe the tear is in a place that will make it look cool rather than ruined. I don’t have time to inspect the damage, though. Instead, I stand up and then run toward Tater’s increasingly alarmed barking.
It strikes me that I’m only armed with a lanyard that holds my car and Airstream trailer keys. If my dog, who can be ferocious when he wants to be, is in full-on aggressive mode, perhaps I shouldn’t be running toward him and whatever threat he’s facing.
I round the bend of a stand of pines to be greeted by a sight that simply does not compute: one Australian cattle dog, also known as a blue heeler, and one… monster.
He’s only wearing shorts, which allows me to see almost all of his monstery-ness. The salient part of what I see isn’t his alarmingly perfect set of masculine abs, but the furry legs and short, bushy tail below his waist. And, last but not least, the rack of horns, surrounded by flowing dark-chocolate hair on his handsome human head. That’s when I realize his fiery brown gaze is locked on me.
I should run. My heart is pounding, my fists are curled, and I’ve passed from scared to terrified into fight-or-flight mode. Sadly, my brain has quit working and I’m not fleeing or fighting. I’m frozen. Except for my mouth.
“What the fuck?”
Chapter Four
Sylas
I’m in the presence of two things I’ve never encountered before: a human female and a dog. For a moment, I freeze. Perhaps the predator DNA lurking somewhere deep inside me is fighting with the prey species my makers mixed me with.
I’m torn from my paralysis when the four-legged creature snarls, barks, and paws the ground. He’s not keeping his distance, but is encroaching into my territory, his fangs barred.
“Is this your beast?” I ask, my gaze flicking to the female only long enough to ensure she doesn’t pose a threat. I neither see nor smell a weapon, so my attention returns to the dog.
“Tator Tot will rip you to shreds if you so much as look like you’re going to hurt either one of us.”
“To hurt me, he’ll have to get close to me. Before he can do that, I can kick him hard enough to send him into the next county.” I punctuate my statement by stomping my hooves, hoping the dog perceives it as a threat, and backs off before I have to get aggressive.
I’ve watched dozens of hours of elk videos on YouTube. Elk may be herbivores, but they can stomp the living shit out of another thousand-pound elk. Little Tater Tot won’t stand a chance against me.
The hackles on the dog’s back are standing erect. “He’s going to launch at me any second. I really don’t want to hurt him,” I warn.
Perhaps it’s my reluctance to harm her dog that pushes her into action.
“Tater! Down!”
The dog is clearly torn between obeying his master and following his instincts. Believe me, buddy, I’ve been there.
“Tater. Come!”
Slowly, reluctantly, the dog backs toward the female, never taking his threatening gaze off me.
“Who? What… are you?” Her eyes are wide in fright, and I can hear her heart drumming in her chest.
It’s only now, my adrenaline tapering from its spike, that I realize I have a bigger problem than a protective dog. I’ve been seen by a human who doesn’t have top-secret clearance. This is far worse than being mauled by Tater Tot.
Although my soldier brain is still assessing the danger and weighing possible responses, my human brain is sizing the woman up. She’s the prettiest woman I’ve ever met, which isn’t saying much, since she’s the only woman I’ve ever met.
